


a break in our rhythm

by eruriku



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, oooOoOo grOUNDBREAKING, ooooh so clever it's not a REVEAL fic it's a POST-reveal fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-29 20:44:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5141873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eruriku/pseuds/eruriku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe the revelations and the unmasking is the easy part, and everything afterwards is just … awkward.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a break in our rhythm

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Miraculous Ladybug (oh, but I can dream), but Thomas Astruc is a fantastic person to follow on Twitter, hint hint nudge nudge.
> 
> It's past 3am and this is exactly why I don't write during term time.
> 
> (Yyyyyeah, apologies in advance for the quality, I was just itching to post SOMETHING.)

He wants to laugh.

He wants to bend over, put his hands on his knees, and let out an earth-shattering, bellowing guffaw to release the shock, to do something about his astonishment (and in all honesty, it _is_ kind of funny). She looks like she wants to do the same thing, but she looks a lot more mortified than him.

Time wasn’t on their side today, and he guesses that even Lady Luck’s luck has to run out eventually.

He doesn’t laugh. He takes a step closer to her - slowly, carefully; he’s worried she might bolt if he makes any sudden movements - and when he’s about a foot away, he raises a hand towards her. He’s not _quite_ sure where it’s going or what he’s trying to do so he hesitates; his hand hovers next to Marinette’s cheek, slightly curled so that the knuckle of his pointer finger is literally a breath away from her skin.

He’s suddenly quite aware that she’s holding her breath at his nearness so he drops his hand, wincing a little when he catches her flinch like he’s just burned his fingers on the surface of her skin. He clears his throat instead, unable to figure out what to do next. (What do _other_ teenagers do when they realize their masked super-powered ass-kicking … _colleague_ turns out to be the girl in their English class who they so happen to be developing a teensy crush on?)

“I…” Adrien starts to say something - _anything, just say anything!_ \- but he falters, still reeling from the revelation, opting instead to turn around and slide down against the wall to sit on his bottom. He feels tired all of a sudden, tired and weirdly relieved. Marinette purses her lips in worry before bending to squat in front of him.

“Adrien?”

He laughs this time. Not a Ha-Ha-That’s-A-Good-Joke kind of laugh, nor the kind that gets a psychotic villain started on a lifetime career of crime, but more of a quiet, deep-chested, Welcome-To-My-Life kind of rumble.

“I can’t believe I never noticed she was you,” he says quietly, looking up to look straight at Marinette. Really, how could he have missed it all this time?

It’s all in the eyes.

Part of him stings with the knowledge that maybe he didn’t know his Ladybug as well as he’d convinced himself he did. The other part kicks himself in irritation because if he’d just paid extra attention to Marinette and didn’t begin his stupid Lovestruck Teenager act with her, then he might’ve spotted it earlier.

This explains a lot actually. It explains why Lady’s been acting awkward and weird - awkweird? - around him recently and why Marinette’s become more comfortable with Adrien. If he didn’t know any better, Adrien thinks Marinette sort of fell _out_ of love with Adrien while - God help him - Lady’s started to fall _in_ love with Chat Noir.

How awkweird is that?

He feels like he’s sat there against the cold stone of the alley wall for years chuckling about the absurdity of his life but it’s only about half a minute before Marinette reaches over and lays a tentative hand on his left knee.

He will never wash these jeans.

“Do you wanna … get out of here?” she asks him shyly, the expression on her face a mix of anxiety and hope, a strange amalgamation of Marinette’s timidness and Ladybug’s determination.

“I … feel like we have a lot to talk about,” she reasons, shrugging one shoulder.

He can’t argue with that, so they brush the dust and dirt from their jeans - he might have to wash them after all, damn - and make their way to the nearest cafe.

They find one that’s a smatter of bright lights and sweet smells wafting out of the front door that’s bustling with movement and the ring-ting-tingling of the doorbell hanging above it. As they make their way inside the cafe, Adrien glances at the bell and thinks of the cat-bell that always hangs from his costume. He snorts to himself and follows Marinette into the noisy room.

“Isn’t this place a little loud?” he wonders, leaning over to speak into Marinette’s ear so he doesn’t have to yell at her. She smirks as if she couldn’t hold it back - actually _smirks_ and since he’s only seen that particular tilt on _Ladybug’s_ lips and never on Marinette’s, it kind of takes his breath away - before leaning up to speak into his ear.

“This way no one will be able to hear _us_ , kitty. Keep up with me!” she teases, walking over to line up at the counter. Adrien’s breath catches from the feeling of her voice vibrating into his ear and he pauses for a moment to shake it off and follow her to the counter.

It _is_ pretty busy at the cafe, Saturday afternoon on a beautifully-lit spring day and all, so Adrien and Marinette squeeze into a lone table for two in a far corner next to the glass windows where they have a wicked view of the streets of Paris bathed in the warmth of a sun that’s setting almost reluctantly.

Adrien stirs his tea quietly, every tiny clang of the teaspoon against the sides of the cup like a blow to his eardrums. It’s loud in the cafe but it’s unbearably quiet in this corner. Before he can even muster up the courage to break the silence that’s bordering on awkward - and he can’t let it get awkward, he _won’t_ let that happen to them - Marinette suddenly gasps and slams both hands down on the table, rattling their drinks and startling him and the older couple sitting next to them.

“The essay!” Marinette cries suddenly, all in a panic. She scrambles to open her purse, carefully hides Tikki behind her, away from the couple’s view, and whips out her phone.

“The… English essay?” Adrien asks her cautiously. “It’s not due until the 20th, right?”

“Yeah, but Madame Durand wanted the full draft of our plans by tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow?” Adrien repeats, frowning. His brow clears in understanding a second later and he laughs a little only to stop abruptly when Marinette shoots him an irritated look.

“Oh, so Paris’s street cat has already sent it to her then?” she tests him.

“Well, yeah,” Adrien says bashfully before reaching over to place his hand over hers so she’d stop glaring at her phone. “Marinette, it’s Saturday.”

Marinette stops moving. The look on her face elicits a grin from Adrien that he doesn’t even bother hiding. She’d been buzzing just a second ago, pretty much vibrating in panic and now she’s frozen but he can still see her eyes soaring, most likely thinking about what day it is.

“O-oh,” she laughs nervously. “Right. And she wants the draft in by Monday, so if today is Saturday then of course she doesn’t need it by tomorrow!” She stops her stilted speech lamely, clears her throat awkwardly and pulls her hands away from Adrien’s to put her phone away. Adrien tries to throw her an easy smile that ends up being the furthest thing from easy and flushes when he realizes that she isn’t even looking at him.

It’s getting awkward - _it’s getting so awkward_ \- and he’s scrambling to fill in the palpitating silence with just about anything now - a question, a compliment, a song, a joke (no, _no_ , anything _but_ a joke).

“So, how–”

“I was wondering–”

They speak at the exact same time, like a perfectly rehearsed scene out of an American chick flick and they both visibly cringe at their impeccably mismatched timing. They’re embarrassingly out of sync and it’s such a startling contradiction to the rhythm they’ve created as Ladybug and Chat Noir that Adrien feels a sense of whiplash just thinking about it. He feels the beginning of fear - just a dot of it, but the anxiety that keeps it company is undeniable - nudge his heart, spreading an uneasy worry that maybe discovering each other’s identities will be their downfall, and that they’ve ruined the effective give-and-get relationship they’d had when they were still just Chat Noir and Ladybug, just two kids doing their best behind the safety of rubber masks.

That fear spurs him on to break the silence, urging him to reassure her that even if she is now Ladybug _and_ Marinette, he will equally still always be Chat Noir _and_ Adrien, and both boys have always loved Ladybug in the most honest sense of the word.

And when it comes to Marinette, Adrien thinks he could also learn to love her in the same way.

He’s come to associate her as kindling of light among the loud colors of the kids at school. Some of his classmates tend to shine too bright and bless his enhanced eyesight, but they burn his irises (not that he blames them!). Others are yet too dark, even for him, to make out; too blurry and warped from being wrapped in their own comfortable and personal bubble (but he’s never and _would_ never try to force them out!). Marinette reminds him of a steady flame - not a blazing bonfire, spitting sparks and choking dust; not a single candle, for the gleam in her eyes glows brighter than that, but a flame in its most earthly manner. She flickers in and out of sight sometimes but her warmth is a constant presence behind him in class, beside him at lunch, around him in her laugh.

She has not yet captured his heart but she has already seized his curiosity, which certainly does not bode well for him, pun definitely intended. He thinks she deserves to know that Heroine or Parisienne, she is one and the same, and at the end of it all, he will always be, first and foremost, her partner.

He thinks all of this in his head, briefly wonders where he gets his occasional poetic streak, but before he can even try articulating himself, she beats him to it.

“You know, o-on second thought,” Ladybug (Marinette!) mumbles with her signature stutter, her fingers twisting her cup of coffee (was it a mocha?) back and forth on its saucer, “we don’t have to do this right _now_.”

It’s … not a very Ladybug thing for her to say. Or at least, that’s what Adrien first thinks. Then he backtracks.

Of course it isn’t. Ladybug would give him that look (and she’d _know_ what look he’s talking about - that one she gave him after every charming grin, every lame pun, every failed pick-up line) but then she’d smile at him fondly (that had always been his favorite part of their interactions), and then she’d get straight to the point and defeat the bad guys.

But here there are no bad guys. There isn’t even a point. Here it’s just them, their kwami, and the coffee.

And here, they are not Ladybug and Chat Noir (well, they are, but never mind that). Here they are Marinette Cheng and Adrien Agreste, two fine young adults on an infinitely weird coffee date (because that is so what they’ll be calling it a year from now).

And Marinette Cheng would stutter.

And Adrien Agreste would probably (read: definitely) wait half a second too long to deliver his next line.

And maybe that means they’ve lost a little bit of their Dynamic Duo synchronization - at least for time being. It’s pretty clear that in the blink of an eye, in the tick-tock of the unforgivable clock, their lives have changed and everything is different now.

No, they don’t _have_ to do this right this instant. They don’t _have_ to talk about their identities (real and superhero), about how they juggle the Life and schoolwork, or about the pains of keeping their secret hidden from _pretty much everybody_.

“I want to.”

Adrien finds his voice by harnessing Chat Noir’s bravado and confidence, and he tries to put that in his words, tries to tell Marinette with his eyes to _please stay just for a bit and you’ll see, things will be just fine._

She looks a little uncertain for a split second before her eyes grow comfortable again, as if she’d gotten his message and she’s trying to tell him that _of course I’ll stick around, you silly cat._

She graces him with a hesitant smile (and he feels as if God has kissed him on the forehead) and a split second later, they’re snickering at their combined ineptitude before Marinette tentatively confirms with Adrien that their essay plan drafts are indeed due on Monday and not a day sooner.

Their infinitely weird coffee date stays infinitely weird, but at least they’re laughing now.

And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

 

 

_\- fin -_


End file.
